


Varsity Cues

by Friar-Minkus (Combustible_Lemonade)



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Embarrassment, Fluff, Jacket sharing, M/M, his moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combustible_Lemonade/pseuds/Friar-Minkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Farkle is cold so Lucas lends him his varsity jacket, and then everyone assumes they are together. </p><p>Pining, embarrassment, and cuteness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Varsity Cues

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a prompt given to me by mr-and-drhowdyturtleneck on tumblr. Their prompt being the basis for the summary.
> 
>  
> 
> Cue (kyo͞o): A hint or indication; a signal for action.

Farkle was cold-natured. It was why he also wasn’t used to being without two or three layers of shirts, one of said layers usually being a turtleneck. 

It wasn’t just a style choice, but also to make sure he never really got cold unless he was at home and had stripped down into his boxers, makeshift pajamas of t-shirts and basketball/sleep shorts for the night, or had just gotten out of the shower. Otherwise, he’d almost always be freezing.

But here he was, in the darkness of homeroom, watching a documentary in cargo shorts and probably the thinnest white shirt he owned, freezing his ass off. Goose-flesh and all.

He was hunched forward, shoulders nearly to his ears, arms crossed under the table while bounced one leg continuously, trying to divert his mind from how damned cold he was and simultaneously generate some kind of warmth in his body.

Riley turned around in her seat, whispering, “Fakle... can you please stop that? You’re making my seat shake...” 

Farkle apologized, “Sorry... cold.” Riley smiled sadly at him.

“I’m sorry, Farkle. I’d give you my jacket, but I don’t have it today. And I doubt it would fit you anyways, now...” She was referring to his sudden growth spurt in the 8th and 9th grade. Farkle smirked. He told her he wouldn’t want to wear her jacket anyways, he wasn’t particularly fond of cheetah print. 

She chuckled and went back to watching the video her father was playing for them, but not before scooting her chair forward an inch or two. Just so that Farkle could continue jittering his leg about under his desk without shaking hers.

About five minutes passed before...  _Psst!_

Farkle looked over to his left. Lucas was leaning halfway over his desk, in a blue Henley and jeans, though it wasn’t really necessary for him to lean in so much for Farkle to hear him, their desks weren’t even two feet apart.

“Something wrong, buddy?” 

“Freezing.”

Lucas’ face turned from concerned to bright with a solution, “Here,” he turned around in his desk and took his varsity baseball jacket off the back of it, “I’m pretty warm all the time, I don’t really get cold often, and I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt, so I don’t need it right now.” He held it out to his best friend. 

Farkle gaped, “Uh... I’m fine, really.” He blushed at the thought of wearing Lucas’ jacket. Probably because he was beyond in love with the green eyed Texan. He thanked any and all Gods/Goddesses that it was too dark in the room to tell.

“You’re lying, you’re still tapping your heel,” He held it out farther, “Just take the damn thing, Farkle.” 

Apparently Farkle hesitated too long because a moment later the lined felt with faux leather sleeves was being draped over his shoulders by the older male.

“Uhm...”

“There.” The dirty-blonde haired boy patted his best friend once on the back, right on the middle of his own last name, and went back to his seat.

_It smells like him, oh god..._

Farkle closed his eyes. 

He was a young scientist. And he could tell right now that he definitely was going to die, absolutely, one-hundred percent, he was not going to be alive anymore after this, in fact he was probably already dead.

His face burned.

It wasn’t long before the lights came on, and when they did he knew his face had to have been as bright and red as a traffic light. But as he tugged both sides of the jacket closer together in the front with his left hand, and the warmth spread over him, he couldn’t bring it in himself to truly care. 

“Cute. You got your new boyfriend’s jacket there, Farky?” Maya turned to Riley, “Isn’t that so cute, Riles?” Riley grinned and nodded, blushing with delight.

_Nevermind, he did care._

“It’s about damn time you made your move, man.” Zay gave Lucas a friendly slap on the back.

_Wait... ‘move’?_

“Well,”  _Oh lord, even Mr. Matthews_ , “I just want you both to know I am extremely happy for you and if either of your families aren’t supportive for whatever reason, the Matthews’ house will always be open for you two when you need it.”

Then Maya stood and started clapping. So of course Riley followed.

Then Zay.

Then Darby, Yogi, Sarah, and all the rest.

The whole class was cheering for them.

Now Farkle  _knew_  this had to be some weird coma dream on his deathbed or something. There was just  _no way_  this was actually happening. Stuff like this never  _actually_  happened in real life. 

He wanted to curl up and die. Preferably still wearing Lucas’ letterman.

Speaking of Lucas he hadn’t even looked at his best friend since before he had put his jacket on him. He slowly trailed his bright blue eyes to his friend’s face.

The world suddenly shrunk down to just the two of them. There was nothing else. Just them. Engulfed in silence and darkness.

Lucas was sitting sideways in his chair, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him. 

He was already looking at Farkle. 

He had a similar expression painted on his face to the one that he makes when he’s pissed off. Yet it was completely different. Softer. Taut with something other than anger.

Regardless, however, his green eyes were staring at Farkle so intensely the younger felt, and looked, like a deer in headlights, trapped inside the thick, bulky, dual-colored jacket that was covered in baseball and academic patches.

Lucas sat up straighter, leaning forward, he grabbed the collar of his jacket, just above Farkle’s hand on the second button, and brought him closer. 

Their eyes never disconnected. Not until Lucas finally tilted his head and locked their lips.

It was slow, sweet, and beautiful, as was their parting; full of bittersweet serenity and the sound of everything clicking into place.

Their faces were still extremely close, and their eyes had immediately met again after they had enough space between them to see the other’s. 

Farkle was in shock and a smile slowly spread across Lucas’ features.

“My moment.” His voice was low and quiet.

And suddenly the world bloomed back and they were surrounded by cheers and applause.

Farkle was pretty sure he’d never feel cold again, and as Lucas rested their foreheads together, hand now wrapped securely around the back of Farkle’s neck, he realized he really would never miss the cold anyway.


End file.
